Walking through the ornate halls of Ashford Academy, flanked by an entourage of elite bodyguards that screamed luxury and political importance, Clovis vi Britannia moved with the poise of royalty.
The air was heavy with power, the scent of polished marble and wealth trailing in his wake. But his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
He turned his head slightly, eyes settling on the tall, stern figure walking just behind him.
"Jeremiah," Clovis spoke, his voice calm yet serious, "I already know about you and Lady Marianne. Don't worry—I'm not blind. I've known for a while."
Jeremiah stiffened.
The way Clovis said it... it didn't sound like an accusation.
More like a farewell.
"Go. Protect Lelouch," Clovis continued without pause. "I won't stop you. I'm not going to chain you to my side if your heart belongs elsewhere."
Jeremiah blinked, thrown off by how casually and generously Clovis was letting him go.
"But… Prince Clovis…" he murmured, rubbing the back of his head, his posture uneasy.
This wasn't right. This felt like betrayal. He served Clovis, not Lelouch.
He'd never pledged loyalty to Marianne's son.
How could he just walk away from the one prince who'd never once treated him poorly?
"I know what you're thinking." Clovis glanced forward, continuing to walk with that unshakable royal grace. "But he's my brother, Jeremiah. And he needs you more than I do. Nunnally too."
He paused.
"They're Marianne's children, your former liege's blood. If anyone deserves your protection, it's them."
Those words hit harder than Jeremiah expected.
His throat tightened, his chest heavy with guilt and gratitude all at once.
He couldn't hold it back—he dropped to one knee, head bowed, voice trembling.
"Thank you, Prince Clovis… Thank you for letting me go. I'll protect them with everything I have. I swear it. I'll repay your kindness, no matter what it takes."
Clovis placed a hand on his shoulder, firm but gentle.
"Go, Jeremiah. He's your new prince now."
Jeremiah stood, eyes fierce with renewed purpose, and gave Clovis one last deep bow.
"Thank you. Truly. Thank you, Prince Clovis."
With that, he turned sharply on his heel and rushed down the hall, no hesitation in his steps, each stride carrying him closer to Lelouch and Nunnally's dorm.
A new chapter. A new purpose.
Clovis remained still for a moment, watching him go, his expression unreadable, calm on the surface, but something deeper stirring beneath his eyes.
The knights around him exchanged subtle glances, their expressions betraying quiet shock.
None of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
They all knew.
Clovis just gave up one of his strongest, most loyal men.
And he did it with a smile.
And it took a lot of courage and character to do so.
"Brother, are you sure about this?" Lila la Britannia asked, her voice laced with concern as she followed her brother's decision to release Jeremiah from his post.
She knew her brother well, he wasn't the kind of man to hand over one of his strongest knights for free, especially not to someone like Lelouch.
He wasn't known for acts of goodwill, not unless there was something to gain from it.
Lelouch didn't hold any real power in the royal hierarchy anymore, at least not enough to warrant such a gesture. It didn't make sense to her.
Even C.C., walking silently behind them, said nothing. She didn't understand Clovis's motives either.
And hidden behind her ever-stoic Zero mask, no one could read the expression she wore—or the thoughts swirling behind those glowing green eyes.
Clovis's answer was calm, but definite.
"It's the best outcome for all of us. There's nothing reluctant about it, dear sister," he said, tone casual, almost too casual—as if this move hadn't cost him anything at all.
He reached out and stroked her head with a teasing, affectionate touch.
"Huff, I'm not a child. Stop treating me like one, stupid brother," Lila muttered, her cheeks puffing in protest.
But she didn't swat his hand away.
She never did.
And despite her words, she couldn't stop the smile creeping across her face.
There was always something soothing, something real, about the way Clovis touched her—something that reached deeper than it should have.
But the warmth didn't last long.
His hand pulled away.
Her smile faded as she watched his attention shift toward Lord Ashford, who had been standing off to the side, observing the exchange in silence.
"I need to speak with you. Alone. Can we, Lord Ashford?" Clovis asked, his voice cool and edged with something unreadable.
Lord Ashford gave a small nod, then motioned them forward, leading the prince down the hall toward his private office.
The knights remained posted outside.
Only Clovis and Lord Ashford entered.
Clovis sat down at the head of the table like it belonged to him—legs crossed, posture relaxed, yet eyes sharp and unreadable.
That effortless arrogance clung to him like a second skin.
His gaze locked onto Ashford's face with a predator's patience.
"Now," Clovis said slowly, fingers tapping the armrest, "Let's talk, Lord Ashford."
"This time, it's just between you and me."
His tone left no room for misunderstanding.
Whatever was coming next, it wasn't diplomacy.
This was about power. About secrets. And maybe, just maybe—about something far darker than anyone in the palace dared whisper.
...
Inside Dormitory
"Prince Lelouch," Jeremiah announced, his voice firm with discipline—but before he could take another step, a figure moved to block his path.
The maid stood tall, planted firmly in front of her master like a shield.
Her gaze was locked on Jeremiah, sharp and unblinking, holding a flicker of wariness—like a predator sizing up a threat.
She didn't care about rank or status right now. Her sole purpose was protecting Lelouch and Nunnally, and she'd cut down anyone who got in her way.
She had rushed to the scene the moment she heard Prince Clovis had discovered their location.
No hesitation.
She abandoned everything else and made a straight beeline here, heart pounding, ready to fight.
But she was too late.
When she arrived, Prince Clovis was already gone.
Just Lelouch and Nunnally sitting across from each other in silence, as if the storm had already passed and left nothing but eerie calm in its wake.
Still, she wasn't completely too late.
She spotted Jeremiah approaching from the distance, and in that instant, her instincts flared to life.
She positioned herself defensively in front of Lelouch, her glare screaming, You're not taking another step unless I allow it.
"Step back, Sayo. Let him talk," Lelouch ordered quietly, voice calm but firm.
She paused, tense, before giving him a reluctant nod and stepping aside.
Lelouch stared at Jeremiah, his expression blank—cold, unreadable. Like a man already calculating ten different outcomes for this conversation.
Jeremiah swallowed thickly, the tension between them thick enough to cut through.
His feet moved slowly, almost unsure, until finally he dropped to one knee before the exiled prince, head bowed low, voice cracking with guilt.
"I apologize, Prince Lelouch... I failed you. I failed her."
He clenched his fists, trembling.
"I was there. I was supposed to protect Lady Marianne. But she still died. She was murdered right under my watch. It's my fault—I should have been stronger. I should have seen it coming."
He lifted his head slightly, his face a blend of shame and desperation.
"Please... give me a second chance. I can't undo what's been done—but let me protect her children. Let me serve you, as I should have from the start."
There was a long, heavy silence. Lelouch stared down at him, unmoving.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't have to.
His mind was screaming.
Jeremiah was here under Clovis' order—he'd personally escorted Lelouch from the casino place all the way here.
What were the odds he wasn't still following his brother's orders?
What if this was some ploy, some guilt-drenched act to get closer and finish the job?
Lelouch couldn't afford to be naive. Not anymore.
But Nunnally was different.
Innocent.
Hopeful.
She rolled her wheelchair slightly forward and gave Jeremiah a soft smile, her voice warm despite everything.
"Thank you, Sir Jeremiah. But... we can't give you anything. We have nothing left to offer."
"No problem at all, Princess," Jeremiah replied quickly, eyes softening.
He rose to his feet, chest puffed out as he tapped his hand proudly over his heart. "I don't need anything in return. Serving you—protecting you—that's more than enough for me."
Lelouch sighed, the last threads of doubt still clinging to him.
But at this point, what choice did he have?
He needed people. He needed loyalty. And if Jeremiah was being truthful—if even a fraction of his guilt was real—then he could be useful.
"Then come with me, Sir Jeremiah," Lelouch finally said, voice steady and cold again. "I want details. Every detail. I want to know everything about my mother's murder. No more secrets."
Without another word, he turned on his heel, walking out of the room with purpose.
Jeremiah followed a step behind, posture straight, obedient and ready.
This wasn't just a reunion.
This was the beginning of something much, much bigger.